


Try Harder

by dirksoftly



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: BLACKWING - Freeform, Dirk whump, Gen, Project Blackwing (Dirk Gently), Whump, description of an innocent bean getting the shit kicked out of him, he'll be fine, probably
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-02
Updated: 2017-11-02
Packaged: 2019-01-28 07:18:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12601236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirksoftly/pseuds/dirksoftly
Summary: "This isn't how it works!"Friedkin knew he needed to do something to correct this. Everyone already knew he wasn't technically qualified to lead this operation. He couldn't be seen allowing a subject speak to him like that without consequences.In which Friedkin beats Dirk after his outburst in Space Rabbit.





	Try Harder

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first thing I've written in a while and my first Dirk Gently fic. Dirk is a cinnamon roll and he deserves better, but he's also perfect for whumping, so this is all hurt and no comfort.

"-Because you've run out of ideas and you know something bad is going to happen soon." Dirk stands up and faces the glass. "Whatever you're doing, it isn't going to work. Fate and chance are not mutually exclusive, Mr. Friedkin, and if you keep on this path you're going to get a healthy dose of both." He glared at Friedkin, his contempt becoming more and more evident. "It's probably already started, and you haven't even noticed."

Friedkin squeezed the green-eyed toy. "Get him out of there." 

Dirk smacked the glass, making him jump. "This isn't how it works. I am not a machine. You can't control it! This isn't how it works!" The two large guards came up behind Dirk and roughly grabbed his arms, dragging his small form back from the window. "Do you understand? This isn't how it works!"

Friedkin knew he needed to do something to correct this. Everyone already knew he wasn't technically qualified to lead this operation. He couldn't be seen allowing a subject speak to him like that without consequences.

Dirk kept yelling at Friedkin as the guards dragged him down the hallway and into another small room. This room was the same size as the one they came from but had no windows and no experiments set up. As Dirk took in his surroundings, the guards shoved him to the ground.

Dirk was exhausted from a long day of pointless, painful experiments, so he sat on the ground. All he could do was wait for whatever they had in store for him. Through months of this treatment, he had learned that putting up a fight would only make things worse. He would be trapped here doing whatever they wanted until the Universe decided it needed him elsewhere.

After a few minutes, Friedkin appeared in the doorway with a sour expression on his face. “I’m not going to tolerate this behavior from you, Icarus,” he growled. Friedkin normally exhibited a dimwitted disposition but now he seemed angry and cold. He still didn't sound smart, but there was something in his tone that he had never hear before and it frightened him. Dirk stared up at him, the defiant look in his eyes hiding his fear. 

"Which behavior? Was it when I noticed how inane all or these tests are or was it when I pointed your incompetence out to everyone?" he countered, getting to his feet. He was impressed with himself for speaking without his voice shaking very much. 

Friedkin's mouth twitched. Without a word, he pulled his right fist back and struck Dirk hard across the face. Pain exploded in Dirk's left eye as he stumbled back with a yelp. Friedkin advanced on him, grabbing him by the collar as he backed Dirk into the wall. 

Dirk stared at him with wild, frightened eyes as his back was pressed against the cold surface. Friedkin's hand tightened around his throat, making it impossible to breathe. Dirk struggled against him, desperately clawing at the hand around his neck. He looked into Friedkin's eyes, searching for any sign that he might be about to let up and finding none. 

He fought his hardest, but Friedkin was larger and stronger. Dirk was never much of a fighter to begin with, so he really didn't have a chance against this brute. He tried to kick his legs out, hoping one would collide with Friedkin and force him to loosen his grip. However, he was too panicked and weakened by his inability to breathe to put together an effective self defense. Friedkin's hand didn't budge from his throat. His attempts weakened and his eyes rolled back as he began to lose consciousness. Friedkin finally released his grip, allowing Dirk to collapse, gasping for air. 

"You shouldn't talk to me like that, you know, in front of my subordinates." He seemed to be reassuring himself. "I'm the leader of this operation, and I can't have you, like, undermining my authority and stuff. If you keep this up, I'm going to need to make an example of you." Dirk fearfully looked up at him from his place on the ground.

"Get up," Friedkin commanded, and Dirk was too frightened of the possible consequences to disobey. Dirk stumbled to his feet, still dazed. 

"I'm sorry, I'll try to do better," he promised. Dirk had no idea how he could start doing "better" because it doesn't work like that, but right now he was willing to say anything if it would make Friedkin leave him alone. 

"Ok then," Friedkin started, pulling out a notepad and scribbling something on it. "What number did I just write on this piece of paper?" Dirk's heart sank.

"...um...35?" he guessed, praying the Universe would help him for once. Like a panther pouncing on its cornered prey, Friedkin crossed the room and backhanded Dirk hard enough to send him reeling back to the ground. 

Dirk lay on the ground helplessly as Friedkin kicked him square in the ribs. He moaned as the pain blossomed throughout his ribcage. Friedkin showed no mercy, though. He kicked Dirk over and over again, covering his torso in bruises. 

"I want to to think of this every time you fail one of your experiments. Just." kick "try." kick "harder."

He squatted down next to Dirk and ran a hand through his hair, tightening his grip when he reached the hair on the back of his head. Suddenly, he stood, pulling a barely conscious Dirk upright with him. Dirk cried out in pain, but no one was there to care. 

"I hope I don't have to do this again, Dirk," he said, his voice dripping with faux friendliness. Dirk noticed him cast a glance over to the two guards still in the room, as if he were making sure they saw this. Friedkin shoved, sending him headfirst into the wall. Friedkin's cruel face looking down on him was the last thing Dirk saw as everything went dark. 

Later that evening, Dirk lay in his cell, unable to sleep. How would he survive if this was how Friedkin was going to start reacting to him failing his tests? He wished he were a real psychic so he could at least have some control over the situation. Dirk was pondering how royally screwed he was when a moth descended from the air vent in the ceiling. It flew directly above him, seeming to look him in the eye. 

He watched as the bug fly over to edge of his bed and to his surprise, Mona Wilder herself stood before him. 

"What are you doing here?" he asked, delighted to see his friend for the first time in fifteen years.

She doesn't answer his question. "Find the boy!" she whispers, her wide green eyes gazing at him mysteriously.

He only had time to mutter a confused "What?" and furrow his brow before she smirked, picked up his glass of water, and splashed it in his face, sending him far away.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it! I'm thinking about writing another chapter where Todd and Farah find him in the trunk and tend to his injuries. On the show they haven't gotten the chance to have a good talk about what they did to Dirk during his months at Blackwing so I might want to get into that. Let me know if you'd be interested in reading something like that.


End file.
